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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344803">When the Night Rolls In</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyDfan/pseuds/NancyDfan'>NancyDfan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Past Violence, Post canon, ethan has thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:55:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344803</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyDfan/pseuds/NancyDfan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the middle of the night, Ethan remembers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ethan Winters/Mia Winters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When the Night Rolls In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hola! If you’ve never read my fics, welcome. I do not use betas and I have problems with typos so expect such joyous things in my writing. </p><p>I headcanon that Mia did not remember everything from the baker house although she remembered what happened on this ship. </p><p>Enjoy =)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He wakes with a start. Silence fills the air save the sound of the nearby grandfather clock and his own beating heart. He waits, and he listens. The house is empty. Tonight they are safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is not the first time Ethan has woken panic stricken. In fact, he cannot remember a night he slept until the morning. He lifts his arm; the large watch on his wrist flashes a green 2:37, and he drops back into his pillow with a sigh. Mia stirs beside him. He hopes he did not wake her. Ethan almost covets her broken memory of her time at the Baker estate. Despite the best doctors money can buy, Mia never does remember being rescued or even slicing his hand off. But Ethan remembers. In crystal clear HD. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ethan blames his mind, hardwired to remember even the tiniest detail: the specs of a new project, how one piece fits into another, the sound of an axe slicing through skin. His eyes close, and the scene replays. He shakes his head banning that memory away. At the time, he does not feel the horror of his actions. He credits the pain and shock coursing through his veins for that, but he feels his right hand shake now. The one that deals the blow. He grabs that hand and breathes. They have survived to live another day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mia’s snores reach his ears. It comforts him to know she is breathing safe beside him. They are not what they were. He is lying to even suggest they are fine, but he can never regret the hell he endured that brought them home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ethan slides from the bed and makes his way to the bathroom adjoining their hallway. Mia remains still never noticing his movement. His night of horrors at least taught him one useful skill. Ethan steps in and flips on the light. He sees himself plainly as he looks into the mirror. His eyes are dark and tired. The scar Jack gave him curves across his cheek. He glances down and sees where his hand was reconnected to his arm. A dozen more scars zig zag over his hands. He can guess some are from Mia, but the rest are unclaimed souvenirs from Eveline’s handiwork. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mia asks once where he acquired these marks. He tells her. After everything, honesty is something he values most. Ethan does not seek her guilt although he knows she feels it some days when her eyes linger on the jagged scar. His anger for her actions has long dissipated.  They are victims, and he will not entertain the idea they have penance to pay. Not to the world, not to each other. Monsters ripping at his skin and a permanent need for physical therapy is more than enough for one person to pay in a lifetime. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ethan passes silently to their kitchen. He spots the wine bottle Mia pulled out for their date night. Ethan is not sure if it is to help her sleep or cover the awkwardness that three years and monsters create. He never partakes. It has been suggested, even from his own psychologist, that a glass may do him good, but he refuses to ingest anything that keeps his mind from staying focused. Perhaps lack of sleep counters his decision, but it is his choice to remain alert in case the terror he left finds its way to his home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is what haunts him most. It is not the monsters or the bugs. He grimaces then. Maybe it is the bugs too. But if anything, he fears what else the world is hiding. The night of terror he survived demonstrates in painful detail that monsters do creep in the dark and are closer than you realize. The news barely mentions the mysteries in Dulvey, Louisiana, told to shut up and bury it, and Ethan cannot help but wonder what else has been hidden from the public knowledge. He asks, but they never tell him what he really wants to know. Perhaps it is for the best. His body already groans from being tossed around like a puppet. But that does not stop him from training.</span>
</p><p>Mia eyes him warily when his hand takes up the shotgun again, but it helps him sleep at night knowing he can empty iron in any monster that dares to cross his path. Because deep down he knows his fight is not finished. One day they will come calling again, and this time he will be ready. </p><p>
  <span>Until then, he walks back to the bed he shares with a wife full of secrets and a head filled with nightmares. When he closes his eyes, he does not dream, and for tonight, that is a victory. </span>
</p>
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